The Girl Who Speaks in Flowers
by cercee
Summary: "I may be deaf... but you have shown me how to hear again by seeing you smile... and by feeling the touch of your hands go through my hair." Follow a tale of a man who can hear yet rarely speaks, and a tale of a girl who hears nothing, yet she can never stop sharing her words.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfiction in a long time. I hope you guys enjoy. :)**

"There are set rules in this estate, girl." The woman she called her _obasan_ quipped. The mansion she was in seemed to be listening in, waiting to see what she would do or say in return. "We will only provide you your tuition, a bed, breakfast, and dinner. Do not expect us to treat you like family. Do you understand?"

Hana looked at her for a long time. She could see the similarities between her obasan and her father; she wore her dark, graying strands of elastic hair in a bun. Her skin was as white as bone. She wore a thin, permanent frown. The only difference were her eyes—they were like small clumps of coal, pasted to her face. Her father's eyes were blue, like the sky after a storm.

"Do you _understand_ , girl?"

She read her obasan's lips, and Hana nodded.

"Ah!" she mocked. "It understands me. Good. Your room will be downstairs before the servant's quarters." Kimiko seemed to have collected the words in her hand, pat them tightly together, only to hurl them at her niece who bathed in anxiety. "Don't bother coming to me for anything. I won't understand, anyways. It's a shame you're deaf," the woman sighed. "What you do with your hands is unbecoming."

Kimiko started to walk away. She stopped and looked back to her niece, and raised an eyebrow.

"You really can't hear me much, huh?"

Hana knew for sure she didn't know sign language, British or Japanese. The girl thought for a moment, before opening her mouth to speak in a soft, raspy voice.

"I..." Her hand rested on her chest. "See..." With that same hand, she pointed a small finger to one of her green eyes. "Your..." Then, she pointed at the woman she barely knew. "Lips..."

"Hm," Kimiko wrinkled her nose. Hana felt her stomach tighten. That was a known trait for the Furukawa family; her father often did that when he was deep in thought. Unabashedly, Hana did the same. "When did this happen?"

"I went..." she began to sign. "Deaf... last year..."

"When you were sixteen?"

"Yes."

Kimiko hummed under her breath. "I thought you would sound more... deaf."

"And I thought my obasan... would be a kind person."

The woman pursed her lips at her niece's quick response. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

"Dinner will be sent to your room. You'll attend Ouran Academy starting tomorrow. The Furukawa family has a reputation to uphold, and I expect you to maintain it."

When Kimiko turned to walk away, Hana decided to do the same. Her hands were folded tightly behind her back, her green eyes downcast and her teeth grazing over her bottom lip. She knew that her father did not maintain a loving relationship with his family, and due to that their distaste boiled down to _her_. After all, Hana was the reason why her father left Japan in the first place. She knew, for the most part, what Kimiko said—and those words clobbered Hana in the back. She just hoped she wouldn't have to meet her _ojisan_ , let alone her _cousins_. She prayed that they were distant.

She arrived to her room and took a good look. It was bigger than her old room in England; a large bed with violet, silk sheets, and soft carpet that felt like clouds beneath her feet. Two grand windows were on one side of the room, and on the other side was a photograph of crimson snapdragons. _Graciousness and deception._

Hana pulled apart the curtains and watched the world outside what she now called her _home_. The sun had slipped behind a mountain, and the light had fallen flat. Branches were full and ripe with cherry blossoms, the warm spring wind stripping pink petals off the tips. If only she could hear the soft croaks of a Nightjar, or the trees rutting up against the window when the wind would intensify.

She tried. She really, really tried. But at that moment, tears spilled down her green eyes and her lip trembled like an earthquake.

Her hands flew to her eyes and she continued to sob until her throat was dry and her vision was blurry.

She couldn't even hear herself cry.

* * *

There are three places Mori would be found in: the kendo club, the music room, and the garden—all in that specific order. Before host club hours, he would stop by the kendo club to see his classmates and underclassmen practice. He would occasionally strip out of uniform and into a comfortable gi, and grab a spare bokken and practice with them. It was a nice routine for him to break a sweat before hosting. Honey would be taking a nap, sometimes before the club and sometimes after, and he'd wait patiently for Mori to finish.

The host club was a different story, and rather much more complicated to explain. Everyday was different, and he now found it more interesting and exciting with Haruhi (forcibly) joining the club. She was still new and trying to get accustomed to the everyday craziness. To Mori, while he didn't speak much, he found the host club to be the most amusing part of his day.

And if he needed a break from anyone or anything, he'd find himself wandering the gardens of Ouran. Cherry blossom trees were full and vibrant. Patches of pink moss and violets scattered in clumps throughout the courtyard. Mori particularly enjoyed a spot under a marble gazebo, flourished with red roses and vines. It was a spot far away from noise, from clusters of people, and even from his friends. Not many people knew of his secretive spot.

A brisk wind wove through the bushes and cherry blossoms surrounding him, twirling the leaves so that their pale undersides fluttered towards the sun. Like children thrust suddenly into the spotlight, flitting between nerves and self-importance.

That's when he saw her—the foreigner. The girl with freckles and green eyes, sitting under the gazebo with a thick, worn-out book on her lap.

He had overheard that a foreigner was being transferred to Ouran, but she would be taking... different classes. She was nearly the same age as him, he thought. Rumors spread fast in this vast academy.

He cleared his throat, but she didn't look up. Her forest eyes locked on the words on each page. Her round lips were pursed, eyebrows furrowed together, and for a second Mori thought that she was _pretty_. Unique. Peculiar.

She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, revealing one of her hearing aids.

 _Oh._ That's why.

He began to turn around, not wishing to disturb the girl, but he heard a small noise from her direction, a noise akin to a squeak. A _mouse_.

"I'm sorry," she spoke softly in his native tongue. Her voice had a thick accent, he noted. The girl began to move her hands at the pace of her speech. "Is... this your spot?"

His gaze went from her features, to her hands as she spoke, and directed back to her eyes. Mori is a very perceptive man, as well as considerate.

"No," he shook his head. His hand went to his chest, and he shook his head once more. "Not mine."

"Oh," she sighed. She stood up, folded a page in her book, and cradled it tightly to her chest. "Well, would you... like to sit with me? There's room for two."

He stood there silently for quite some time. She was short—not as short as Honey, but shorter than Haruhi. The longer he looked at her, the more he realized that she was soft on the eyes. Gentle. And with that calming, accented voice was like a cushion. If he were to be honest, he'd much rather listen to that than the screams from the customers at the host club.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again, this time using her hand as well to create the motion. It clicked in Mori's mind that she was also using sign language to communicate, though he wasn't sure if it was the equivalent to Japanese Sign Language or otherwise. "It must be... odd for me to offer..."

"No," he held up his hand before she could make any step away. He waved his hand as a _no_ , hoping she would understand. "Not odd. Don't leave, please."

Her face relaxed, and Mori's cheeks reddened. It was refreshing, honestly, to see a girl who didn't _fawn_ over him. The girl sat back down and moved to make space for him. Gently, she patted the empty spot next to her, eager for his company. And of course, the third year obliged to her innocent, and encouraging request.

"What's your name?" she asked politely, lifting her head to meet his gaze. Even when sitting down, he still towered over her. He wondered if it hurt her neck to look up that much.

"Mori."

"M...Mo...ri?"

He nodded. "Mori."

"Forest?" she spoke in English. It took him by surprise, but he nodded again. He came to the conclusion that he liked her accent.

"Yes."

She lifted her hand and stretched it out. She held it sideways in front of her face, and waved it outwards.

"Forest. Mori."

He nodded, and she smiled. A tint of pink coated her cheeks, and he found it precious.

"I'm Hana."

"Hana." Mori repeated, then he spoke in English. "Flower."

When she read his lips and pieced the words together, she eagerly scooted closer to him. "Yes! Flower. Flow-" she lifted her hand towards her left side of her mouth, and folded her index finger and thumb together to make an O-K sign. "-Er." When she finished, she had moved her hand to the other side of her mouth. "Flower. Hana."

Mori repeated the motion, though carefully. "Ha-na."

When Hana would smile, her freckles would turn into commas. The outer corners of her eyes would wrinkle, and there was some sort of spark in her eyes that sent Mori reeling. He wasn't sure what the feeling was, or whether it was a good thing or bad thing. But he wouldn't mind offering his company to this tiny, foreign girl. He was already enjoying himself, even if he wasn't showing it.

"It's nice... to meet you," she spoke and signed at the same time. "I'm sorry for... being forward."

"Don't apologize," he said rather quickly. Hana blinked once, then twice, and shamefully sighed.

"I'm sorry, I... don't think I caught that..."

The tall host member reached into his bag for a pen, and tore a piece of notebook paper from a notebook he barely used. He held it down against the bench and scribbled down some words, then handed it to her.

 _Don't be sorry, Hana._

The girl held the paper gently, and smiled.

"Okay then. I won't be."

Another slap of wind flew by. The bottom of her skirt fluttered on the concrete ground, and her dark hair whipped through the air like a kite. She giggled at the force of mother nature, and tried to smooth her hair down before pulling a pink petal tangled in her locks.

"It's beautiful today," she mused, twirling the petal between her fingers. Mori didn't take his eyes off her.

"It is."


	2. Chapter 2

**It's been nearly a year since I've published a second chapter to this. Honestly, I forgot about it all! Life likes to get in the way, and I do apologize. I promise I will try my best to post often. After all, I'm always a sucker for Ouran. :) Thank you all for your encouragement. Reviews definitely put a smile on my face.**

That same day he met Hana, the academy was so clear and still—it was as if Ouran was trapped in a jar. His dark eyes traveled down to the heavy tome that sunk into her lap. It had no etching of an author, no cover, and no title. A gray-covered book with yellowing pages. He noticed that she had neatly folded the corner of a flimsy page to mark where she had left off once he came into view. He felt a little bad, really, that he disturbed her peace. She seemed so invested in her book, but the way she looked at him with those verdant eyes made that feeling disappear in thin air.

Silence hung over them. Her voice, lumpy from lack of use, coughed out some words. "The book?"

"Hm?" He gave her a quizzical look, and her lips stretched into a smile.

"It's Macbeth. Shakespeare. Have you read it?"

Mori shook his head.

"Is Shakespeare included in the Japanese cur...curriculum?" The girl flushed at her fumble of words. Hana practiced diligently every night to articulate her speech. She feared her words would slur. She was relieved when Mori made no clear expression on his face, though she was starting to realize that maybe that's how he simply is. The taller man shook his head no. "Have you read any yourself?"

Another no. Hana wrinkled her nose.

"Macbeth is... interesting. It's taken in Scotland. Witchcraft... prophecies, violence, assassination... and murder. A lot of Shakespeare's works tend to... include that theme." There was something otherworldly in her manners and appearance, Mori noticed. Her dark lashes and the curve of her mouth. She was most certainly not plastic, unlike many other girls in the school. She wasn't loud, but she wasn't shy. She blushed, but he was sure that it wasn't from his presence. She was deaf, yes, but he could tell that she loved to talk. He loved to listen. It was her intelligence that captured him.

She was small in frame, and could easily pass as a first year. Yet once she opened her mouth she was composed and wise, as if she moved through the world with knowledge beyond anything he had encountered. She didn't fawn over him like most, and it was new. Fresh, actually. He wasn't quite accustomed to that yet.

"If you'd like," he watched her tiny hand run over the front of the book. "when I'm finished, maybe you'd like to read it? It's, uh, it's in English. I'm sure my obasan has a Japanese copy somewhere..."

She lives with her aunt? Mori thought. A foreigner transferred from England to Japan. Either her mother or her father is Japanese, he concluded.

"I'd like that." He said in response, and her expression lit up from reading his lips. The sun hit at just the right spot between crevices of the trees and warmed her hair. It was so vibrant and lovely that it didn't even look like a color anymore. He knew that she couldn't hear it, but birds chirped and fluttered their wings over the gazebo. A cardinal perched on the railings behind her and tilted its crimson head, wings shifting and pulsating at its sides.

When the wind hit, her hair flew and she squeaked again. A _mouse_. That thought hit him once more like a sack of bricks, and he hid his embarrassment at that comparison. He got a good view of her hearing aids as she moved her head, gazing at the beauty Ouran had to offer.

He was curious. His intense stare was glued onto the girl as she soon patted down her once-neatly-kept locks, emanating a rare and stifled giggle that was childlike.

"Hana." Mori whispered. He knew she couldn't hear. Not to mention that she was busy laughing at the sharp wind that ravaged her hair. But her name easily rolled off his tongue, and Mori liked the way it felt in his mouth, and the way it whispered in his ears.

"Ah," she sighed, standing up from her seat. "I should probably head home. Um," Hana looked at him, clutching her book close to her chest. "I'll be here tomorrow again... same time. Would you... like to join me again? I... don't know many people here, and I'd like the company."

Hana. Flower. Those words were now woven in his brain. The cherry blossom trees stood gracefully over the courtyard, around the gazebos and crowning the girl in front of him. They were delicate, just like her.

His nod was enough to satisfy the girl, and gleefully she grinned and bowed slightly, grabbing a fistful of her skirt and lifting it so it wouldn't drag along the grass as she walked towards the path. He would have offered to walk her to her ride home, but she was too quick. He watched her from afar, making sure she arrived at the front of the building safely.

It was a goal of his to be at that very same spot again. He hoped, for the sake of his budding feelings, that she would be there too.

* * *

Hana's cheeks glowed with life when she saw him the very next day. The sun circled around her, creating an aura of fervor and passion. Her dark brown, almost red hair was up in a ponytail today, with a few loose strands framing the sides of her freckled face. Macbeth was heavy on her lap, and she was clearly much further into the book than she was the day before. There was that same cardinal behind her, trilling and flapping its beautiful wings. It flew away swiftly as Mori approached her, sitting a good arm's length adjacent to Hana.

"I was looking forward for you to come," she joyfully hummed, reaching in her bag and pulling out another book. Macbeth. "I found a Japanese copy in my obasan's library. I... I don't think she'll notice it's gone. I never see her there."

He hoped that it was no trouble. The last thing he'd wish would be for her to get in trouble, but he was grateful that she went out of her way. He took the book and nodded his head as a thank you. Hana smiled again. She had dimples, he noticed. And she seemed much, _much_ happier.

Mori didn't want to admit it, but he was staring at the clock as the host club was in session. The ticks and tocks were embroidered in his head, waiting for the hours to be over. He wasn't a cynical person. He never liked to think of himself that way, anyways. But the squeals of the girls at the club room was... unbecoming. Annoying, if that's the correct word. But he never realized it until he was sitting down, serving the girls some tea and watching Mitsukuni share his sweets with the ladies. His cousin's childish charm swooned them all, and Mori's short, curt responses made them shift in their seats.

Hana was so different. He knew her for two days, and he found himself looking forward to seeing her. He glanced over his shoulder during lunchtime to see if he'd catch her standing in the lines or sitting alone. When the final bell rang, he strolled through the halls with his cousin roosting on his shoulders, dark eyes darting from student to student to see if he caught those familiar curls.

Nobody knew of his blossoming friendship with this girl. Nobody was aware of the feelings he tried to shove down to the pit of his stomach.

 _It's too soon. Too quick._

"It's not an... easy read," she interrupted his thoughts, which he was _very_ grateful for. "especially if you've never read his stuff before. Let me know if you need some help."

The sky was a clear blue and the air was calm. It was a better day to read without much of nature's distractions. He flipped open the book and began to scan over the kanji. Hana was not wrong—Shakespeare was difficult. It was colorful, elaborate, and poetic. He wondered if there was a copy somewhere with a smoother translation rather than the exact. He looked up and licked his lips, parting them open to ask her a question once he was invested, but he saw that she was so immersed and devoted to the play. He would hate to distract her.

Mori was still in the first act, and he caught himself going back and forth from reading and glancing at the foreigner next to him. She'd do this thing where her nose would wrinkle and twitch when deep in thought. She played with the back of her post earrings—it was pearl, but it looked fake. He never knew a girl at Ouran who had fake jewelry, apart from Haruhi if she even had any. She probably cared less for materialistic things. Hana bit her nails, too. It wasn't the best habit, but it could be worse. It made her... real.

He arrived to the fifth scene. Had he gotten this far already? He continued to read diligently until he came across a line that stopped him in his tracks.

Hana looked up when Mori tapped on her shoulder, and she offered him a wide smile. Her bottom front teeth were slightly crooked. It gave her character.

"Are you stuck?" she asked with nothing but curiosity. He pointed at the line, and she leaned over to read it. It took her a second to register the kanji, for Japanese was not her first language.

 _"Look like the innocent flower,_

 _But be the serpent under it."_

"Ah," she started. "She is advising Macbeth onto killing Duncan. She's en...encouraging him to look innocent, to act innocent. Welcome him with open arms without letting him know his true intention—to kill him." Hana observed his fixed gaze on the pages, and she grinned again. "In the play it has one meaning, but outside of it... the quote can have many different ones. Someone can look the opposite of what they're feeling or thinking. Serpents are... they uh, symbolize rebirth, or wisdom, or death. Maybe all of the above. We all have serpents inside us shedding its skin. We just have to determine and decide what it rep... represents.

"Is it a different version of us that we are hiding? A good one, or a bad one? Is it someone that we want to be? Is it someone else in our life?"

He was silent for a long time. The quiet came in patches, in between the birds and the slight rustling of the cherry blossom trees. Hana was blushing.

"I-I'm sorry. I got a bit... carried away. You can tell I read a lot. Maybe... a bit too much."

There was a shy, almost shameful laugh, and Mori was quick to shake his head.

"No. It's okay," he said. "Thank you."

It made him think, really. Did they all have serpents inside them? He wondered what kind the girls at the host club carried. Some with good intentions, some with terrible ones. He would have never thought of the quote that way, and he was thankful that he had Hana next to him. She was intuitive.

She played with her earring again and looked away bashfully, her eyes trailing back to the words in her book.

Mori's mind was clockwork now.

What kind of serpent did Hana carry inside her?


	3. Chapter 3

**Everyone's encouragement makes me so happy! I'm so glad that there are people who still enjoy this. Reviews always makes me grin from ear to ear.**

Kyoya, if anything, was a very perceptive man. He was the vice president of the club. Loyal to the hosts and ladies, calculating and diligent to his work both inside and outside the academy. Behind those glasses were nearly unnoticeable tired circles beneath his eyes, and one would have to squint to get a good look at his evident exhaustion. A week had passed since he started to observe Mori-senpai. He hid himself behind a clipboard and notebook, mindlessly jotting down notes as the day's club activities drove on, but it did not mean that he was oblivious to Mori-senpai's odd nature. He was quiet, yes. That was not new. He took care of Honey-senpai and made sure he wouldn't cause such wreckage. That was not new either.

It was that grandiose clock that caught Mori-senpai's attention, and it was his aloofness that caught Kyoya's. His eyes would dart towards the clock every few minutes. His hand would cup the back of his neck and squeeze the tense muscles away. These, of course, were habits of eagerness. When the club hours would come to an end, Mori-senpai and Honey-senpai would usually go home together in the same limousine. This past week, however, Honey-senpai was sent home alone. Takashi stayed behind.

What did he do after club hours exactly? Kyoya pondered. He knew well for a fact that his kendo meetings occurred right after the final bell. Host club activities. Sometimes the upperclassman would step outside to the furthest courtyard and—

" _Ah!_ Tamaki-senpai, y-you're always such a flirt!"

It was as if a light bulb suddenly flickered on over his head.

When the host club was over, Mori-senpai and Honey-senpai were the first to take off. Kyoya made an excuse to use the restroom and successfully followed the two silently—stealthily. Honey-senpai muttered something to his cousin, and the silent one gave a simple nod. They split ways and Mori-senpai climbed down the stairs with speed. Kyoya had a good view of the courtyard from the second floor, and found a window nearest to that location for him to peek out of. He was quick to hide his lengthy body behind thick curtains, only propping his head out from behind it.

He saw a girl sitting beneath the gazebo. A book was open on her lap, her bag seated next to her unopened. _Yes,_ he thought. _The deaf exchange student._ Furukawa Hana. Seventeen years old. A third year. Her mother was from England and her father was from Japan. It was obvious given her features. From the files he read over, he knew that both her parents died of a terrible accident just a few months prior her move to Japan. She lives with her aunt, grandmother, and her cousins. The Furukawa family was well known for their old money.

Her father was a famous author who created Furukawa Publishing & Co. _FB &C._ Her mother was someone he had met on a business trip.

His inheritance was passed down to her. His disabled daughter, who was diagnosed with a connective tissue disease that hindered her hearing.

Kyoya wasn't sure if the girl was aware of what was stated in her father's will.

Mori-senpai caught his eyes. The tall host cut through the path and lumbered through the grass, in between the bushes, and lifted a branch of a cherry blossom tree to get to the gazebo. The girl lifted her head and smiled. She moved her hands as she spoke. Mori-senpai sat down next to her and pulled out a book of his own from his bag. _Mori-senpai reads?_

Kyoya sifted away from the window and pressed his back against the wall, finger tapping at his lower lip in thought. He would have never thought in a million years that Mori-senpai would suddenly be so interested in this girl. He wondered how they met, or if they had known each other before.

He pushed his glasses upwards to have them comfortably seated at the bridge of his nose.

Kyoya wasn't one to completely meddle in someone's complete personal life, let alone a possible _love_ life. He respected his upperclassman; both himself and Mori-senpai held the same power in academics, politics, and business. If he had found someone that he was interested in, then so be it. He prayed Tamaki would be the last to find out.

But he wondered that if word got out... how would business be for the host club? Gossip spreads like wildfire. Not many ladies would come in and request Mori-senpai for his presence. Everyone would be aware of that relationship. Perhaps it would create some sort of drama. Kyoya never gave it any thought that some of the hosts could very likely find somebody they fancied, and how it would affect the club's finances.

Kyoya walked away.

He'd let Mori-senpai make those decisions for himself.

* * *

A couple more days passed, and Mori couldn't find Hana at their little spot. It was... unusual, and almost scary. He sat under the marble gazebo and crossed his legs, pulling out his book and flipping to the third act where he left off. _Maybe she is late,_ he thought. But by this time, the sun was already beginning to set. Pale light tore through the trees that were now losing its pink flowers, and blossoming into verdant leaves. Clouds began to shroud the sky. He pulled out his phone and flipped it open to check the time.

Five minutes had passed. Ten. Twenty. Once thirty minutes hit, he stood up and placed his bookmark at the page he would continue later. Putting his book in his bag, he slung it over his shoulders and decided to walk inside the academy.

Did she not want to talk to him today, or see him? No, she was definitely not like that. But he wouldn't know, right? They had no forms of external communication, he couldn't—

If Mori could slap himself in public without looking idiotic, he would have done so.

He never asked for her number.

Mori walked to the cafeteria and grabbed a bottle of water. He'd need it for his training that night. Tucking it in his bag, he walked through the halls and past the nurse's office, whose doors were wide open, and he heard a familiar and accented voice inside the room. The man stopped in his tracks, as if he hit a wall, and looked inside to see Hana laying down on one of the beds, softly talking to the nurse in Japanese and signing at the same time. His heart skipped a beat. She clearly wasn't feeling well.

Should he go inside and say hello? Would that seem stalker-like of him? Or should he walk away and wait for her at the gazebo everyday until she felt better? His body moved quicker than his mind, however, and he found himself stepping inside the nurse's office. The woman in a white crisp uniform stood up from her seat as soon as he walked inside.

"Morinozuka-san, are you ill?" she started, and Hana turned over in her bed to get a good view of the man. She smiled brightly, despite the pain she was in.

"Mori-san," she croaked. She signed his name. He remembered when she showed him that. "What are you doing here?"

"You know him, Furukawa-san?" the nurse replied, and soon she grinned. It was a sly one. Mori took note of that. "I'll leave both of you alone." She reached up and pulled the medical curtain between the bed and her desk, and opened the door to her office. The two were alone.

"I'm sorry I wasn't... at our spot today," she said softly, fingers moving slowly with her words. It had only been a little over a week, and Mori was slowly catching on to sign language. He wondered if she could teach him. "I get fevers often..."

"Don't be sorry," he said. "Not your fault."

"It's a disease..." she whispered, attempting to sit herself up. The host reached out to help her, but it was too late and she had comfortably seated herself with her back against the wall. She squinted her eyes a little bit. Fatigue distorted her sense of time. Her hair was loose and untidy and her face creased from where it had pressed into the pillowcases. "It's not con...contagious. It's, uh..." Hana wrinkled her nose, and switched to English. "Mixed connective tissue disease. MCTD."

Mori's eyes knitted together just slightly, and Hana took that as an indication of curiosity.

She continued in Japanese. "It's an au...aut...imm..."

"Autoimmune?"

He forgot that she was deaf again, and mentally kicked himself. She stared at his lips, however, and laughed. It was melodic.

"I have no idea what you said, but I'm going to say yes. That word exactly." Her laugh turned into a snort, and it took him aback. C _ute,_ he thought, and continued to listen to her. "My immune system attacks my body's own tissues. The one I have affects my organs. I get fevers... um, joint pains... I get fatigued easily. Oh! And I am that unlucky percentage where hearing loss is one of the symptoms."

That would explain a lot, Mori's conscious told him. He did not want to bring it up, but she didn't sound deaf. She read lips precisely. He didn't want to be rude, however, and would hate to make her uncomfortable for prying her with questions. It was not part of his morale. But she sounded so... positive about it. The way she spoke about her condition made it seem like she was reading a child a bedtime story. Mori admired it greatly.

"My right ear is terrible. It has 90% hearing loss. My left ear has 75% hearing loss. Hearing aids help a bit. It helps me at least determine who is talking, and what noise to look for. It's... okay, okay," she stopped herself and moved, facing him directly. She was flushed, her forehead was damp, and she looked exhausted. To Mori, she looked so lovely. "Imagine yourself... underwater," she began, fingers moving slowly in sign language. She didn't know, but Mori was slowly catching on. "And while underwater... there is a wall. Imagine every noise included... with those factors. Muffled. Fuzzy. Just mumbles and pitches."

Mori thought of it overtly in his imagination. He could almost hear it.

"That's how it is for me. Weird, right?"

"Not weird," he said. "Different."

Her eyes softened. His chest constricted.

They rarely talked to each other.

Well, he never talked to her. She did most of the talking, but it was about Macbeth. Other fine pieces of literature she enjoyed. Hana even created a small list of books that she encouraged him to pick up sometime. Their time together was simple, quiet, but not awkward. It was a nurturing silence, one that caressed him and soothed him. He liked the silence that they brought together. But Mori felt, despite all of that, he lacked tidbits of information about her. Her favorite color, for an example. That's a good starter, right? Favorite food, favorite weather, favorite places to see. What does she want to do after college? Does Hana like animals?

What about her favorite flower?

"Thank you," Hana said. "for listening. I feel... a bit more at home..."

He looked down at her hands. She was playing with her nails. She probably wanted to bite them off again.

Home.

 _Home._

"You should go home."

She looked up. "I'm sorry, I... I didn't see your lips."

Mori humbly cleared his throat, and spoke a little slower. "You should go home, Hana-san."

Her green eyes looked sad for a split second, and she sucked in some air. "My, um... my obasan isn't home. Or my ojisan... or my cousins. They went out, I think. For dinner. And the limo driver was the one that took them. I think he's still there, waiting until they are finished."

Mori couldn't explain what he was feeling right in that second. As a matter of fact, he'd rather not delve into those emotions. He was almost afraid of admitting it to himself.

"When will they finish?"

There was no response from her. She shrugged.

She was ill, new to this country, new to this school, and now her _family_ wouldn't even send a ride to pick her up?

"Did you text?"

Hana nodded.

"Nothing?"

She shook her head.

Hana watched Mori walk to the nurse's door and knock on it. She didn't know what he was doing, and she tried to get a view of their faces once she opened the door to read their lips, but her attempt was futile. She pulled the covers up to her chin and waited patiently until he was finished. Watching the tall man make his way back to her, he took her bag and slung it around his other shoulder, and extended his hand out to her. She took it, albeit cautiously, and raised a delicate eyebrow.

"What—?"

He squeezed her hand lightly. It was so small in his hand. Soft, and a little clammy. He pulled her off the bed gently and helped her get stable on her feet.

"I'm taking you home."

* * *

It began to rain softly, raising goose-pimples on the window's skin. Her bag was close to her chest, her breathing labored from her fever. Her eyes were downcast. Mori couldn't take his eyes off her the entire ride home. The knowledge of this girl's suffering sat cold in his gut, but she carried herself so elegantly. She was carefree. He would have never guessed that she was always in some sort of pain, emotional or physical.

He tapped her shoulder and she turned to meet his dark eyes. She proffered a small smile. "Yes, Mori-san?"

Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out his phone and opened it, going to his contact settings. He handed it to her.

"Put in your number."

Her cheeks were red, and he couldn't tell if it was from the fever or embarrassment. She took the phone and punched in her digits, and giving his device back to him. He was about to send her a text so she would have his, but she was a few steps ahead of him already. Hana pulled her own phone out from her bag and gave it to Mori. It was purple.

"Your number, too."

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. It would typically go unnoticed, but both were so close to each other in the limousine that Hana was quick to see it. It was the first time she saw him smile, and it looked good on him. Maybe she would get him to smile more.

He placed her phone back on her palm when he was finished, and she tucked it back inside her sack.

"I should be better tomorrow..." Hana started. "But, um, I'll let you know. I can text you tonight... if you'd like?"

She glared at him with those big eyes, and he nodded. Such a simple request made her so gleeful. She looked beautiful when she was happy.

They arrived in front of her estate and Mori left the limousine, holding a hand up as a sign for her to wait inside. He grabbed the umbrella and unraveled it over his head, going around to open the door for her. He helped her out, making sure she wouldn't fall over, and walked her to her front door. He made sure that the umbrella covered her the most. He didn't care that his shoulder was now drenched.

She reached in her bag for the keys and held it tightly in her hand, looking at him again with a sense of endearment.

"Thank you," she spoke, signing it at the same time. Her palm was flat, hovering over her lips, and she extended it outwards. _Thank you._ Mori made sure that he remembered it.

"You're welcome," he responded. Before she turned around, he continued, "How do I say it?"

She tilted her head, and soon it registered inside her. She wrapped the strap of her bag around her shoulder and she set her keys down on the ground for a split second. She held out both of her hands with the palms facing the sky, and the back of her hands facing down to the concrete. Her elbows were by her side. Her fingers moved towards her at the same time, in a sort of a _come here_ motion.

"You're welcome," Hana repeated. She took the umbrella from him, but held it high so it still covered his towering figure. "You try it."

He did. He mimicked her stance and the placement of her arms and hands, and repeated the response. _You're welcome._ She had a toothy grin, and gave him back his umbrella.

"You're a natural, Mori-san," she expressed with a giggle. "Maybe I can teach you more sometime?"

Yes! Mori hid his excitement, but he nodded. She reached down to pick up her keys and found the correct one, and turned to unlock the door. Hana looked over her shoulder.

"You have a good evening, Mori-san."

He bowed in return.

Who knew that some plain words would make his heart hammer against his chest?

He watched her go inside safely and made sure she disappeared behind that closed door. He didn't remember the walk back to his limousine, and he didn't recognize the wetness on his shoulder seeping through the fabric of his uniform. His driver had said something, possibly about Hana, and he only grunted in response. It was all a blur to him.

But he was going to go home. He was going to shower and get out of his clothes, and he was going to skip his training that night.

Instead, he was going to do some research.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you once again for all your lovely reviews! (No, I am not an author. Not yet at least.) Feedback is always most appreciated. Without them I wouldn't have picked this back up. Fun fact: my fiance reads these reviews too. :)**

Hana concluded that Mori fancied texting more than speaking. His thumbs typed faster than his mouth forming words. She had texted him a simple goodnight, and that she would let him know whether or not she would meet him at their spot. He responded with speed and visible enthusiasm. He said that he wished for her health to improve. If she needed anything she were to let him know. He offered to stop by after school activities and make sure she was okay— _if_ she decided to stay home from school. The girl was now on her bed in her nightgown, her hair in a thick braid that wrapped around her shoulder and nestled just beside one of her breasts. She ran her thumb over her lower lip as she read over his texts again, and a silly little smile elevated her cherubic features.

She hastily typed up a response.

 _You're too kind, Mori-san. Thank you so much. :)_

 _You've been so helpful since I've moved. I was afraid I wasn't going to make any friends, but you proved me wrong._

 _I'll be okay. I'm a big girl. Pain is an part of my everyday life. But what kind of life would I have if I didn't make the best of it? It would be quite boring, yes?_

 _I hope you have a lovely night. Crossing my fingers that I'll be at the gazebo._

The deaf girl shut her phone and plugged the charger in, setting it on her nightstand neighboring her bed. She stood up and soothed some of the wrinkles from her gown and walked towards the window. She reached to twist the blinds shut, but her eyes traveled up to the night sky, and suddenly she felt an overwhelming sense of bitterness and sorrow.

She remembered how the sky looked like when she lived in the country; where stars leaned together like birds of a feather, and when the moon made her question how it felt to feel so full of life and splendor once more. Living near the city she could still see the stars, but they were not as clear as they were when she was younger.

Her parents died three days before her birthday.

She was sixteen going on seventeen, and that year was entirely dreadful for the young woman. Not only she handled such grief with the loss of her hearing and her parents, but she was also in a stage between who she had been and who she was about to become. Who she _wanted_ to become. Instead of growing up, Hana continued to grow down. That night her parents died the stars faded into specs of dust. The moon didn't shine as bright. That night, she forgot the voices of her parents.

Hana pulled up a chair and opened the window, feeling the brisk wind flow inside her abnormally large room. The night smelled of leftover rain. She closed her eyes and began to lose herself in her thoughts.

 _"For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come?"_

Her father, being the proud author and literature enthusiast he was, often quizzed her with quotes from a Shakespeare play. She had a full day to guess what play it was from—with no help from the internet, no help from her mother, and no help from anyone she may have known. To someone who knew nothing of Shakespeare, they may have found their little game boring and ridiculous. To Hana, it was _everything_. She'd rush to her father's library and pull off every Shakespeare play known to man, and flip through the pages one by one. Sometimes she would get distracted and accidentally read the whole damn thing, or at least come close to it. That quote would resonate in her mind like a bell.

Hamlet.

That quote in particular stuck with Hana like glue. He told her the day before their deaths, and she waited up all evening the night of their demise.

After they died Hana gave it a long thought. She was confused, at first, about the meaning of the quote. She took it as a literal sense with no deeper meaning to it. A simple quote relating to the characters from the play. A quote that haunted her, serving as a reminder of her father. When someone dreams, they might know what to expect. Colors, sounds, images, people. But when none of those exist after death, they don't know what to dream.

She wondered if her parents were in a better place.

She wondered if a heaven or something remotely close to it existed.

She wondered if they dreamed.

Did they dream about a life they couldn't continue?

Did they dream of Hana?

Did they dream of happiness?

Hana's body froze up, and she tried to hold back the tears that threatened to escape their defenses. A chill approached along her hairline, damp with sweat from the remains of her fever. It crept down the nape of her neck and up the curve of her back. That same chill found its way beneath her clothes and started a small shiver along her jaw. When her throat started to burn and her lungs felt as if they were to burst, she paused and composed herself long enough to take in a few languid breaths of air.

Faint shimmers of silver stars belied the night sky. Another gust of wind danced in the air. Hana crossed her arms over her chest and stood up, crawling underneath her bed covers in attempt to appease her spiraling emotions. She stared up at the wide ceiling and the blackness was so complete that, except for the touch of cool air, she could not tell whether her eyes were open or closed.

The only thing visible in the darkness of her room was the photograph of the red snapdragons.

 _Graciousness and deception._

One of them was a trait she carried from her parents. The other was a trait her extended family carried.

Hana blinked away some tears, sniffed, and laid on her side. She pulled the covers tightly over her small body.

She needed to survive.

* * *

The ever-so considerate, yet analytical host resorted to his laptop that night. _MCTD - diagnosis, symptoms, treatment._ Not a lot is known of the cause of the disease, or even how to prevent it. Some prescribed or offered over-the-counter medication, which would only help to a degree. His dark eyes read over the common symptoms and the day-to-day life of one with the condition, and Mori found his stomach tightening and his foot bouncing rapidly _up and down, up and down._

His heart constricted when his phone buzzed next to his computer. He read over the text she sent in response and another rare smile appeared on his face. He knew her for no more than roughly a week and a half, and yet she was already one of the strongest people he knew.

 _Get some sleep, Hana-san._

 _I will see you soon._

He shut his phone and scrolled down on the website soaking in any information that could be useful. She certainly must be in pain at all times, and that thought upset the tall host. He read articles of people living with the condition and how they coped, and he read on the statistics of those who suffered from mild to severe hearing loss. He couldn't imagine dealing with such chronic pain, let alone losing hearing completely at a young age. He pressed his lips in a thin line and turned off his laptop for the night, standing from his chair and stretching his arms far above his head that his bones popped loudly and his muscles tensed.

Mori then stood by his window and stared outside. A corner of the night sky, beyond the wall of trees, bloomed a soft fluorescent glow of the moon. He heard the low thrum of a Nightjar close to one of his trees outside his window, and the slow movement of the small creek in his garden out front. Mori always found these sounds so peaceful, and he could only wonder how badly Hana must have missed her hearing. He felt that he took these mundane noises for granted.

The man closed his eyes and took a sharp breath through his nose, memorizing the sounds outside his home.

He wondered that night what he could do to help Hana.

Darkness soon spilled into daytime and Mori could not get a second of sleep. When he rose from his all-too-comfortable bed, he dragged his feet to his bathroom. His towering frame was drowned in the steam of his shower, the scolding water burning his skin but he paid no attention to it. As tired as his mind was, his body felt refreshed and he exited the washroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He checked his phone for any text from Hana, but nothing was received yet. Should he text her a good morning? Should he ask if she was feeling okay, and if she would attend school? He feared he'd sound desperate if he bombarded her with all those questions at once. And he wasn't desperate. The boy expressed pure and unadulterated concern for the girl's well-being, and dare say he was starting to truly _care_ for her.

He wanted to know more about her. Her foreign beauty was one thing, but her mind and soul was exclusively different. Normally the kendo club, host club, and his cousin would motivate him to get through his day's work, but she was promptly added to that list. He dressed in his appropriate uniform and slung his bag over his shoulder, stopping by the mirror to contemplate whether or not he should adjust his wiry hair. He took a long look at his reflection and noticed faint, dark and sunken circles below his eyes, and the stubble that coated his jaw and chin. Nobody has ever seen him without a clean-shaven face before, and he wasn't sure if he should be looking forward to the reactions of others.

And so, Mori arrived at Ouran Academy. His cousin waited for him at the front and beamed wildly at him.

"Takashi!" Honey yelled and ran to his taller cousin. The small one stopped at his tracks and tilted his head, craning his head upward to gather a good look at him. "Hey, what gives? You didn't sleep last night?"

Mori shook his head, and a sly grin was plastered on Honey's face.

"Is it because of that girl you've been seeing?"

Morinozuka Takashi choked on his own spit. Honey giggled and tugged at Mori's arm, urging him to go into a quieter place that they wouldn't be seen or heard. He followed Honey under a cobblestone arch near the side of the school. Honey jumped once to get a view behind Mori, and turned his head left and right. Good. Nobody was around.

"I'm not dumb, Takashi," Honey giggled again. "I know why you've been staying at school after the host club~ Kyo-chan is aware, too! But it's okay," he pressed his index finger against his lips. "Kyo-chan and I will try to keep it a secret. We don't want to say anything to anyone else!" He clutched Usa-chan tightly against his body. "So, so, so! Who is she? Is she cute? Has she been to the host club before?"

Mori shook his head _no_ at the last question.

"Furukawa Hana."

Honey let that name plant its roots in his brain, and suddenly his eyes lit up like a light. "Ah! That's the new girl, right? From England?"

He nodded.

"Oh, a foreigner~ That's so cool, Takashi! Hey, wait," Honey's eyebrows furrowed, and he cocked his head again. "Isn't she deaf?"

He nodded.

"Do you speak to her?"

He nodded. "She reads lips."

"Does she speak, too?"

Mori grunted a _yes_ in response. He didn't want to give too many details about the girl. It was her privacy; although she seemed very open to him about it, he wouldn't have liked it too much if anyone told another person about something so personal and sensitive. He trusted Mitsukuni, however, but Hana had yet to be introduced to his cousin. He'd prefer to let her do any explaining she may need to.

"Are you going to see her today?"

He shrugged. He didn't know if she was still sick. Perhaps he should have texted her this morning...

"I want all the juicy details today, Takashi~ A picture, too! She's in the same year as us, right? Is she in other classes because she can't hear? Why did she move from England? Is her family famous like Kyo-chan's family? Did she tell you what it was like in England?"

They started walking and Mori let his cousin bombard him with questions. He wasn't about to answer them, at least not all at once. When Mitsukuni stopped, he glared at his cousin who was all too _keen_ for his response. Mori cleared his throat and licked his lips, opening his mouth to proceed. Honey's eyes were wider than saucers.

"Did you brush your teeth, Mitsukuni?"

His cousin's face fell. A question countered with a question. Honey sighed heavily.

"No."

* * *

He saw her sitting under the gazebo, her hair waved and unruly and cheeks like little apples. Her eyes seemed to sparkle when she saw him, and she stood up quickly with a smile on her lips. She handed him a book.

"I wanted to surprise you today. I'm feeling much better..." she started once he took the book, using her hands to translate her words to symbols. "And, uh, I wanted to... thank you... for yesterday. You went out of your way to take me home. This is another Shakespeare play... _The Tempest._ It's one of my favorites."

Mori stared at the navy blue cover and ran his thumb over it. It felt old.

"It's a Japanese copy. My father owned both Japanese and English copies of every single book he read. They're mine now, and... I prefer reading in English. This is yours."

He almost felt guilty, and he was about to look away. "You don't have to."

"No," she placed her hands on the book and lightly pushed it towards him. Their fingers touched for a split second. "It's yours. Please keep it."

It was her treasure and he now had the pleasure of owning it. Mori couldn't help but noticed that she used past-tense words about her father, and while he didn't want to jump into conclusions, he felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. He was good at hiding his emotions but the corner of his lip twitched. He opened his bag and carefully put the book inside as if it were made of glass, and he sat down on the bench. She sat down next to him, folding her lovely fingers neatly on her lap. She looked so pleased, and he adored it.

His hand moved to his lips, and he signed _thank you_ to her. The look of shock on her face was priceless, and her smile brightened his entire day.

"You remembered!" Hana exclaimed. Mori nodded. She cleared her throat and straightened her back, signing in return _you're welcome_ just as she showed him yesterday.

They locked eyes for what it felt like hours, and he could very easily get lost in them. Her cheeks reddened, but he wasn't sure if it was from the heat of spring slowly dipping into summer. He reached into his bag once more to pull out Macbeth, but she extended her arm over and placed her hand on his wrist. He was surprised at the sudden contact, and it was his turn to blush.

"We won't be reading Macbeth today," she explained. "I'm going to teach you the basics of sign language."

 _Yes!_ He thought. He could communicate to her better without using his words, or scribbling any words on a sheet of paper. She positioned herself so her full body was now facing him. Their eyes met again, and he took that moment to absorb every feature of Hana. Her hair was sort of red when the sun hit the top of her head. She did that nose twitch when she was thinking, and he thought of it was one of the most unique quirks of hers. Her freckles clustered together when she smiled. Her earrings, he noticed, changed today—flowers. Daisies. She must really like flowers, he thought, and she truly did live up to her name. Her hair was long and thick enough that it covered her chest. Sometimes she would style it, but today it seemed like she didn't care. He liked that about her; it was refreshing to know a girl who didn't care that much about her appearances. She was confident.

"I use BSL—British Sign Language. I also use SSE, which is Sign Supported English. I use... a mixture of both. It can get... confusing if I'm signing to someone who knows one of the two." She wiggled her nose in reflection. "I am also learning Japanese Sign Language. I need to learn it living in Japan. I can teach you what I know, if you'd like."

Mori grunted. "English."

She raised an eyebrow and put her two index fingers in front of her, her left one laying flat and her right one sliding across from the top of it. "English?"

"English." he nodded, repeating the motion. She grinned.

"Congratulations, Mori-san. You learned your third BSL sign."

Inside the Ouran Academy, Mitsukuni watched through a window. His elbows rested at the windowsill and his hands supported his chin. A foolishly large smile nearly hurt his cheeks observing the two interact, and Honey suggested that their conversations flowed so smoothly. It was something that his cousin needed, and quite possibly appreciated.

Honey sighed contently.

"She really _is_ cute, Takashi~"


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm surprised with all the love I'm receiving! This makes my little heart happy. Thank you so much! :') If you have any questions regarding this fic, please don't be afraid to send me a PM.**

The smell of dust and time was thick inside her obasan's library, and because of that she _had_ to open up a window. Hana let her gaze run along the rows of book spines, red and green and yellow, and waited for a title to arrest her. A small, gray tabby cat was stretched across one of the shelves, and it was balanced in front of the books in a strip of sunlight. Hana hadn't noticed the cat before and wondered where it came from, and how it managed to sneak its way into the library. _A cat has been living here all along?_ She thought. The cat, seeming to sense that she was under curiosity, pushed itself up on her front legs and fixed Hana with a look of majesty. It leaned over and extended itself on its paws, stretching and scrunching its face in a yawn.

She thought it was a perfect scene, and she pulled out her phone and snapped a quick picture. She smiled and sent it to Mori.

 _H: Look at what I found in my obasan's library!_ ❤

The cat leaped down the shelf and opened its mouth. A meow, Hana presumed. Tucking her phone in her back pocket, she went down on her knees and scratched behind the cat's ears, and Hana felt herself already attached to the little thing. Its head leaned against her slender fingers and it closed its ocean blue eyes. It had no collar around its neck—was it a stray? She explored every nook and cranny of the mansion and saw no trace of any necessities for a pet, let alone a _cat_. There was no litter box, no scratching posts, and no cat food. Her eyebrows weaved together in concern.

Hana looked out at the window she opened before, and all at once it hit her.

The cat came through the window.

She wouldn't have assumed that there were many strays in the area. It was a high-end neighborhood packed with lawyers, doctors, and philanthropists. She lifted the cat and cradled it in her arms, scratching the fur on its chest. She felt the low vibration of a purr against her skin, and she couldn't help but laugh softly at the purity of it.

"Did you come from outside, little one?" she cooed, continuing to run her fingers through its fur. She felt another noise. "I'm not sure if... my obasan would allow you to stay. Let's see..." She adjusted the cat to lift it in the air, raking her eyes up and down the body. "You're a boy... and you look so small. You must be young..." Hana felt her phone buzz in her back pocket, and she cradled the cat again in one arm as she pulled it out.

 _M: How cute.  
What's the name?_

She walked over to one of many posh sofas in the library and made herself comfortable, careful to maintain the cat close to her bosom. She wouldn't want any fur to get on the cushions, and the last thing she wanted was to experience her obasan's rage.

 _H: I have no idea. I think it's a stray... There's no collar._

 _M: Would your family be okay?_

Hana wiggled her nose and thought for a minute. The cat continued to rub its face against her chest.

 _H: Probably not. My family is not very accepting of me living here. I can't imagine what they'd say if I asked to could keep a cat._

It took her friend a little while to respond. It was the weekend, and he was probably busy at home. This past week while she was teaching him sign language, she learned quite a bit more about him. She learned that he was part of the kendo club, and another club called the _host club_. He didn't give many details about either and she completely respected that. She learned that he liked Japanese History and Geography. He liked traditional Japanese food. He was a very simple man, but there was nothing wrong with that. The kindness he showed her the past two weeks was more than enough for Hana.

The deaf girl had to admit that the man was rather handsome himself—whether his face carried no emotion, or whether she managed to pull a smile from him.

Her phone buzzed again.

 _M: I can take it if needed._

 _H: Are you sure? Do you like cats, Mori-san?_

 _M: I like animals. It's not a problem._

Hana felt her heart swell. She swiftly typed up another response.

 _H: You can come over and pick him up. My family isn't home right now, and I don't think they'll be back until evening. Until they return we can figure out a name. Do you remember where I live?_

Before she closed her phone and waited, there was another buzz.

She grinned.

 _M: I'm on my way._

* * *

Mori was surprised to see the girl outside her door waiting for him to arrive. Her smile was the very first thing that he noticed when he exited the limousine, and soon his eyes traveled down to the cat that was nestled serenely in her welcoming arms. She waved and walked to him. It was the first time he had seen her without the Ouran uniform, and she looked good. Dark jeans with the cuffs folded up, and a slender black button-up with the sleeves rolled. Her hair was up in a ponytail, revealing not only her hearing aids but a new pair of earrings—they looked like lilies this time. White lilies.

He heard his limousine drive away behind him, and when Hana arrived in front of him he couldn't take his eyes off her. The cat was undeniably adorable, yes, but that was only one of the reasons why he was there.

"Come inside," she said in a breath, spinning on her heels towards the door. He was quick to reach his arm over the girl once they arrived and opened the door for her. She whispered a small, bashful _thank you_ and stepped on in. She slipped her shoes off and he followed suit, taking in his foreign surroundings. It was no larger than his own home, and in the back of his mind Mori wondered what her family did for a living. "Make yourself comfortable. Do you want any tea?"

When she turned herself around to face him, he shook his head no. With no other response, she led him to the library where she had found the cat. He shut the door behind him and stared at the openness of the library. Just how many books did her obasan own? It was a shame, really, that she owned so many and yet rarely spends a minute or two in the room.

"Go on, make yourself comfortable," she ushered him, setting the cat down to roam freely on the ornate carpet. Some of his gray fur fell in wisps behind him as he walked, sniffing Mori's ankles and soon rubbing his face against his leg. Hana laughed. "He likes you already."

Mori crouched and lifted the cat high up in the air. The tall man was astounded on how tiny the thing was.

He sat down on one of the sofas and Hana sat down next to him, observing the way he handled the cat so gently and with care. He had a way with animals, Hana concluded. _A gentle giant._ The thought made her blush.

"We need to think of a name..." she said, scooting herself closer to scratch the cat behind his ears. Mori could smell her perfume. It wasn't anything he was familiar with, and for a moment her words went through one ear and right out the other trying to determine that scent. It smelled nice, but not nice enough to be from a renowned designer. He sighed internally—he was never good at guessing games.

"How about Earl?"

He turned his head. "Hm?"

"Earl. Earl Grey, like the tea. Well... the tea itself is not exactly that color, it's just the name... That's sort of silly, isn't it?"

Mori was quick to shake his head no, and removed one of his hands from the cat's backside. He then curled up on his lap and started to purr. "No," Mori lifted his hand and balled it into a fist, knuckles facing Hana as he shook it left-to-right. _No._ "Not... silly..." The words came as slowly as he signed. Hana widened her eyes.

"I didn't teach you that word, didn't I?" she asked. "The word _silly_."

He shook his head—another no.

"Have you been watching videos?"

He nodded.

Mori couldn't describe the look on her face, and he was frightened for a moment. Was she angry? Was she sad? Was she surprised? Was watching videos on sign language a bad idea? A sigh leaned from her voice and a smile formed on her lips. Her eyes watered... was she happy?

"You have no idea how much that means to me, Mori-san," she began, her hands moving in pace with her words. Mori would normally follow her movements, but this time he was transfixed with her amiable gaze, and the saccharine of her voice. "Have you really been... teaching yourself, too?"

Mori hummed. "I want..." He pointed at himself, and with a flat hand he rested it on his chest before laying it in front of him, as if the motion were akin to a child's slide. "to communicate..." Both of his hands were flat with his palms faced to the ceiling, one above the other, as he skimmed them back and forth. "with you..." Finally, his hands folded where all his fingers were straight and pointed upwards, thumb pressed against those four digits, and he joined those two hands together. He then pointed at the girl, and she gave a ragged noise that sounded similar to a laugh.

"Thank you... Mori-san," she said afterwards, wiping away any evidence of tears that formed at the corner of her green eyes. Even at the brink of crying, Mori believed that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He suddenly went still.

Should he say it?

Should he sign it?

"You're... beautiful... Hana..."

He made sure he signed it slowly. The word beautiful was something he had learned just the night before. He wanted to tell her at some point, but it was so unlike him for his body to move without him giving a full thought.

That blush of hers made his cheeks grow hot as well. Her lips were open as she tried to form words, and somehow her vocal chords wouldn't bring herself to it. She cleared her throat and offered him her famous, toothy smile, and began to sign in return.

"And you're... handsome... Mori-san."

The open window breathed a slice of air in to break the silence of the two. The cat let out a sound and stretched on his lap. Hana nervously played with her earring.

If he could give her the world, he wouldn't think twice on doing so.

"So... Earl, right?" Hana was the first to break that patch of silence. He was relieved. "Should we call him Earl?"

"Yeah." Mori nodded.

"Do you have anything you need to take care of him? A litter box... toys, food... a bed..."

"I will get it," he responded. "Don't worry."

"Are you sure?" Hana raised an eyebrow. "I-I could give you some money for—"

"Don't."

Hana seemed to forget that she now lived with a family with money. It was true. But she also tended to forget that everyone around her in that prestigious school was _just_ as wealthy, if not then more-so. Hana did not grow up wealthy. She knew her dad came from that background, but her mother lived in the countryside of England just on the outskirts of London. Her father often told her stories of the first time he had met her mother, and how he stated that it was love at first sight. He came from not only a family that bathed in riches, but a family that suffocated him and milked him to the bone due to his success.

When he met her mother, he dropped nearly everything that had to do with his life in Japan and wanted to spend the rest of his days with her. His family shunned him, yet they did not disown him. They criticized him for marrying a foreigner, let alone a _commoner_.

 _You get one life, Hana,_ her father once told her. _It is up to you to decide what you want to do with it._

Hana didn't grow up wealthy. She never had the luxury of grandiose parties with fancy food, and she most definitely didn't have the luxury of having everything handed to her on a plate. She wasn't born with a silver spoon in her mouth—she was born a farm girl. She was raised surrounded by cattle. She would feed the chickens at the cusp of dawn, and she would water the flowers in the garden so her mother wouldn't have to.

She felt tears rise up again, wondering how her thoughts went from cat necessities to her parents. The wound in her heart never healed, and it was still open and raw. She wondered if it would ever mend itself.

"Hana-san."

Mori signed and spoke her name at once. She looked at him and wiped her tears once again. Concern was heavy in his eyes. He didn't like seeing the girl sad. Did he say something wrong?

"I'm sorry," she sniffed, trying to smile in between her sorrow. "I was, um... I was thinking about my life in England... I was thinking about my parents."

"...Ah."

It was clearly a sensitive subject, and Mori knew best not to pry. His job was to make sure he wouldn't see those tears creep on her again. Not good with using his words, he lifted Earl from his curled up position and placed him on Hana's lap. The cat yawned and resumed its sleeping position, and Hana giggled. He gave himself a point for that.

"Wow," she laughed again. "The little guy will just sleep anywhere, huh?"

There were remnants of some tears that did manage to escape at the corner of her eyes, and with his thumb Mori inclined himself to wipe it away all while keeping a promising distance between the two of them.

"Don't cry, Hana-san."

She read his lips, and Hana pressed her own together in a thin line.

"It's hard," she whispered. There was a crack in her voice. "It's very hard, Mori-san."

He couldn't imagine.

"My extended family... my obasan especially... they don't like me. My obasan says terrible things about me as if I'm not in the room. My cousins avoid me like the plague. I have not met my ojisan yet, but I can only wonder..." She drew in a wavering breath. "That's why I stay after school often. I don't like coming here. It's so big... I get lost so easily... I feel I can get a breath of fresh air when they're not around. It's sort of like walking on landmines... One wrong step and everything can explode."

Hana didn't realize Mori's hand just barely ghosting over hers. She continued. "I don't know what to do with my life, Mori-san. I want to move back to England, but I have no one there for me. I don't want to stay here, but I don't want to be anywhere near them... I don't know what to do for college. I wanted to follow my father's footsteps, but after their deaths..."

There was a strangled noise in her voice. Mori's hand finally made contact with hers and he squeezed it.

"Hana-san," he began once she locked her eyes with his mouth. "What did your father do?"

"Um," she hiccuped, a free hand reaching up to wipe away the proof of her anguish. "He was... a writer. A very good one."

"Do you write?"

She nodded.

That was something Mori did not know. He learned something new about her everyday. "Then write."

"I-I—" Hana sniffed. "I... don't know what to write about anymore. After they died I just... I lost all inspiration. The rolling hills of England. My mother's garden. My father... everything he had done for me, and for my mother... They were my cornerstone. Even when I was diagnosed, and even when I went deaf... they were there... by my side. And now they're gone."

He wanted to help her. He wanted to give her anything that would help inspire her, even if it was something so minuscule. He wanted to help her forget, even if it was just for a little while. These emotions were so coarse and unnatural to Mori, and he had no idea how to handle them. It was as if she set off a switch inside him, and suddenly his gut and instincts surrounded his being.

Hana ran her hand through Earl's fur, and a wavered sigh left her lips.

"I'm sorry, Mori-san," she whispered. "I didn't mean to... cry and vent all of the sudden."

His hand squeezed hers again, and she glared at him once more.

"Never apologize."

She closed her eyes and smiled a little.

She felt so lucky.

He was understanding, he didn't let her disability get in the way of their friendship, and he was always eager to learn. Not to mention her little school girl crush she had for him, but that was an entirely different story.

"Thank you..."

She said and signed it at the same time. Mori bowed his head in response.

Her father's words rang in her mind again.

 _You get one life, Hana._ _It is up to you to decide what you want to do with it._

* * *

That night Mori went home with Earl. He set up a small bed, a litter box in the spare bathroom, and a scratching post in a small room for starters. He wanted to close the door and let Earl sleep there for the night, but he felt guilty—it was like he was leaving a piece of Hana alone inside a dark room. Instead, he let Earl into Mori's room and on his bed coiled in a ball, a purr of satisfaction vibrating from his small body.

Mori sat at the opposite corner and pulled out his phone, staring at the text he had just received from Hana.

 _Thank you so much for everything you had done today. You listened when no one else will._

 _You've done a lot for me already. Words can't express how grateful I am for your company._

 _Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything, too._

 _Try not to act like Superman all the time._

 _You're only human. :)_

For a moment he felt his entire essence had slipped from his body. His heart was about to crack through his chest. Should he call a doctor? Was this normal? He thought and thought and thought for what it felt like hours. He was extremely wary on introducing her to the host club. _Would_ that be a good idea? She did need some sort of a distraction after all, and the host club activities would be a promising opportunity to get her to laugh. But she definitely was not the kind of girl who would go just to get wooed by a couple of guys, and she would probably feel a little overwhelmed from trying to catch on. She couldn't read everyone's lips at once.

He knew that Mitsukuni was simply _dying_ to meet this girl that Mori was swooning over. Perhaps he could bring her before club hours just to introduce her?

Ah, but then _everyone_ would want to get involved. Kyoya and Haruhi would be respectful, though he wasn't quite sure about Tamaki and the twins.

Mori groaned and ran his hand through his wild hair, giving them a gentle tug before letting go.

He wanted to start slowly. He wanted to start off small. It would take a lot to scare Hana away, but he didn't want to take that risk.

Takashi began to type fast.

 _What's your favorite flower?_


End file.
